Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: This goes in line with my fic "One step too far" but both stories can be read as stand-alones.
THE PRESENT
"Ah, hello, Mr. Roberts. Please. Take a seat."
"Dr. Rossley. Thank you that you've found time for me at short notice."
"Not at all, Mr. Roberts. Whenever it's possible. So... You're coming directly from office?"
"Uhm, yes, I... How -?"
"The uniform. I've noticed because you usually don't wear it here."
"Oh. Oh, yes... I - I didn't have time to change... We've got plenty to do at the moment."
"No doubt. Do you want something to drink? Coffee? No?"
"Ah - no. Thank you. One more cup and I'll be awake all night."
"I see. Of course. But you don't mind if I have a cup, do you? Fine. Well, Mr. Roberts ... now. My assistant told me you sounded a bit upset on the phone."
"Uhm, yes. Probably."
"Well... You want to talk about it?"
"Huh? Oh, yes, sorry. I was just... Sorry."
"Take your time."
"I... When I called... Maybe I overreacted but... Harriet and I, we - had a fight this morning. I - I mean I don't know if you can actually call it a fight. An argument. A ... heated argument. More or less. About ... to be honest it was about something stupid. A glass with orange juice had shattered on the floor and... A-at one point I - I just wished she'd shut up and ... and ... then I... I..."
"Were you tempted to touch her?"
"No! No. I could never hurt my wife or children. But ... that's the problem, isn't it? I - I proved I could."
"Mr. Roberts... I think I'm not mistaken that right now we are not talking about the issues you have with your father? Mr. Roberts?"
"No... I... It was... No. I don't know."
"Mr. Roberts ... I've told you that our memory is a funny thing. It makes connections between seemingly unimportant little things, pictures, a meaningless sentence and something we experienced at some point in our life. Something that affected us deeply; sometimes pleasantly but unfortunately more often ... not."
"Yes, I - understand. You've explained that before. And I ... I think... I mean I thought about it throughout the day and maybe it was the juice ... being everywhere. It - Somehow it brought back..."
"The memory?"
"Yes."
"I see. Mr. Roberts ... if you don't mind I would like to take the time and recall the events of that day - those two days. I know we've done this before and more than once but I think it will be useful to put everything into perspective again."
"Mr. Roberts? Are you feeling uncomfortable with my suggestion?"
"To be honest I've felt uncomfortable with any of your suggestions since we started months ago but ... it always worked out."
"Well, thank you for that compliment. But you are doing most of the work."
"I know. I'm talking until my mouth is dry."
"That's right. So... why don't you start at the beginning? You were assigned to a case of misconduct..."
"Yes. Yes, five enlisted men on shore leave from two different ships had had trouble with each other in a supermarket. It ... didn't end well for the supermarket. My CO, JAG Cresswell, ordered me to have a look at the circumstances before an official Article 32 investigation would be scheduled. It was nothing extraordinary ... just standard procedure. I talked to witnesses to the incident and one of them happened to live in the mountains so I drove up to talk to him too."
"A drive of about three hours if I remember correctly? One way?"
"Uhm, yes, about that. Maybe four. Yes, I know I could have simply talked to him on the phone but ... well, I had a great teacher in Commander Rabb and he used to talk to witnesses face to face. To get the feel of the person, you know? And to be honest I was glad to escape office routine for a day."
"And ...?"
"All right, I wanted to be as thorough as possible. General Cresswell had been my commanding officer for only a couple of months at that time and I ... yes, I wanted to do my best. Prove myself. I'm an amputee, after all. Not that he had shown any indication that - that he didn't approve of my work but... Well. You know. And it wasn't very helpful that I had been on trial."
"I understand. Please. Continue."
"It was January. Two weeks after New Year. It had snowed quite a bit around that date but then most of it had melted again. The weather forecast predicted bad weather and falling temperatures for late afternoon of that day though; maybe a snowstorm. I went nevertheless because I thought I'd have more than enough time to be back in Washington before it got ugly ... unfortunately I was wrong. First it took much longer to find the house of my witness and then it took longer to interview him and maybe I should not have accepted this invitation to lunch. But his wife really made the best homemade bread I've ever eaten... However, when I started driving back it was much later than I had expected and this time the forecast had been right. The storm hadn't even started with full force yet but it was snowing heavily. And the road became dangerously icy as temperature dropped..."
THE PAST: January 2005
- Somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains
Silently cursing himself, the weather, his bad luck and the worn out car he had got from the official JAG motor pool, Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts peered through the windshield. Another gust of wind rocked the car and hammered wildly dancing snowflakes at the glass, covering it again within seconds after the windshield wipers had brushed down the last layer. Then the eerie silence of things that were to come in the night returned. It was barely three o'clock in the afternoon but nearly dark already, making it almost impossible to see the sides of the road or where it was leading. Thick, wet snowflakes came down around the car, giving the eyes no point to focus on. To make things worse, the light of the headlights reflected in them and reduced view even further.
Bud noticed an upcoming turn at the last possible moment and tentatively tipped on the brake. Despite his low speed he felt the car slip and swerve. New sweat formed on his forehead and his gloved hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. The car slowly made the turn and dug deeper into the moving wall of snow. He dared to breathe again.
"Jesus, I'll be so glad to reach the highway!"
And this was even a decent road with two lanes for traffic and not one of those narrow traps where one had to drive backwards for miles if another vehicle happened to come from the other direction! Just the thought made his mouth dry. He could clearly feel the car swimming on pure ice and remembered the streams and puddles of water he had seen across the asphalt on his drive up.
Something in the way the snow fell changed and Bud cast a look left and right. He got the impression of massive darkness to both sides of the road - forest again or at least some trees, providing a little shelter - before his gaze returned to the road. The next second he gasped terrified as a dark form grew suddenly out of the curtain of snow in front of the car, big eyes caught the light of the headlights. Involuntarily he stepped on the brake and jerked the steering wheel to the right.
The car drifted sideways as the wheels lost what little grip they had had on the ground. A sharp 'bang' seemed to come from the front then everything rocked and shook; metal groaned, snow hissed; the world tumbled to the side and came to an abrupt halt.
Silence.
Slowly Bud opened his eyes and inhaled shakily as at last his stomach settled back down too. The first thing he noticed was that the car was hanging in an awkward angle to the right side. The second that he was still clinging desperately to the useless steering wheel. Carefully he looked around.
It was darker than before. The right headlight of the car seemed to be shattered or at least buried in snow. It was rather hypnotic to watch one thick, graceful, feather light snowflake after the other come to rest on the windshield.
Bud shook his head. Trembling he loosened his seat belt and reached for the glove compartment. He breathed a sigh of relief when he really found a flashlight in it then a second one as it actually worked. The battery was rather low but still: it worked. Grabbing his overcoat from the passenger's seat he turned to the door. It took some effort to open it against gravity but he managed and finally climbed out on the road. In a far corner of his mind he noticed the disturbing tremor in his legs as he stood and struggled into his coat. Cold snow crept down his collar.
"Oh, dear." Bud involuntarily grimaced as he pointed the flashlight down the front of his car. The vehicle had skidded sideways into the road ditch. Its bottom was sitting on the ground while both wheels of the right side - and the side itself - were stuck at the lowest point. Dark water formed a sharp contrast to glittering broken ice and painfully white snow. "That's hopeless."
His own voice sounded muffled by the falling snow. The silence around him was complete except for the soft whisper of snowflakes settling on his shoulders or the ground. Too complete. Remembering the reason for the accident Bud turned and carefully followed the road back in the direction he had come from. Again he felt dangerous ice under the almost ankle-deep snow. But although he searched for more than ten minutes he found no trace of the deer. Sighing he gave up. He wasn't even sure if he had really hit the animal and anyway, he had no possibility to help the poor creature if it had fled back into the woods, wounded or not.
With chattering teeth he returned to the car, brushed off as much snow as possible and slipped back in. Bracing himself in the abnormal position of the seat he pulled out his cell phone and was greeted with the annoying beep of an empty battery - again. He cursed.
"Darn it! Not now! I knew I should have brought it to the shop yesterday instead of waiting."
Frustrated he stared at the windshield. Snow was covering it already in a thick layer. Hesitatingly he turned off the flashlight. It was better to save battery. Nevertheless he shivered in the sudden darkness because the headlights were blocked by snow now. Some minutes he contemplated if he could risk starting the engine but decided against it. He didn't smell gas but the tank or a part of the engine could still be damaged. The last thing he needed was the car going up in flames. Thinking about that it was maybe better to turn off the headlights too.
Dark minutes passed slowly. Cold crawled into the car. The soft sound of water lapping against the sunken side seemed to become louder and louder.
Bud turned up the collar of his coat and blew in his hands. He tried to consider his options. A hike in a snowstorm like this wasn't the wisest thing to do but as things were he would freeze to death in the night if he stayed here. Or not. Maybe the shelter of the car was enough as long as he was awake and moved a little every now and then. Maybe it wasn't. What was official advice on an accident like this? To stay with the car?
Darn it, this was a frequently used road under normal circumstances. It was only a matter of time until another car would come along. If someone was crazy enough to risk driving in this weather - like him. Great. He checked his watch. A quarter past four. At least two more hour until Harriet would get worried. And then? Had he told anybody the exact route he had planned on taking? Darn it. If he only knew how far it was to the next town, village or even house. And in which direction. He sank deeper into his coat.
At a quarter past five Bud couldn't bear it any longer and climbed out again. For some minutes he listened intently for a sound. Nothing. Turning back he realized with surprise how thick the layer of snow on the car had become although the wind had increased. It made him rather uncomfortable. What if he got snowed in so deep that he wouldn't be able to open the door in the morning? He cleaned the driver's side then stared at his wet sleeve and rolled his eyes upwards. Now that had been a brilliant idea.
He shivered in another gust of wind. A muffled sound came with it. Bud jumped and his heart started beating faster. He stared into the dancing snow. The sound died away, reappeared and grew stronger. Then dim light of snow-covered headlights filtered through the snowflakes.
"Hello! Hello!" Bud waved his flashlight frantically.
The strange car grew surprisingly fast out of the darkness, moving past him like a ghost. Wind and snow swallowed most of its sounds but snow chains jingled softly. For a terrifying moment he thought it wouldn't stop but then the tail lights colored the falling snow red as the driver finally stepped on the brake. Rolling smoothly through the white blanket the car finally came to a halt twenty feet down the road.
Bud muttered a silent thank you and waded forward. Despite his slow approach he had reached the rear of the car before the door at the driver's side opened and a dark shape climbed out.
"Hello! Oh, thank you so much for stopping," Bud shielded his eyes against the light that was pointed directly at his face. "I had an accident and my car landed in the ditch."
The person didn't answer for a moment, remained in a strange stance, holding the flashlight in both hands. Then the light suddenly wavered and was finally lowered.
"Roberts?"
The voice sounded familiar. Bud blinked and stepped closer. His jaw dropped in disbelief.
"Mister Webb?"
"What the heck, are you doing here, Roberts?"
The light danced up and down as Webb's right hand moved across his hip. And with a shock Bud realized that the agent was pocketing his weapon. Swallowing nervously he pointed over his shoulder.
"I... Witness... I ... visited a witness up there. Then had an accident on my drive home."
Webb turned his head and looked in the direction he was pointing. It was impossible to read his expression through snow and darkness. "Are you injured?"
"No, but the car is damaged. Maybe even an axel. I don't know if we-"
Webb interrupted him sharply. "I will not try and tow you out in this weather. You alone?"
"Uhm - yes."
"Then get in." Webb jerked his head towards his own car.
Bud looked over his shoulder and then back at the other man. He felt a bit overwhelmed. "Uh - all right. Just a second. I - I'll get my briefcase."
"Whatever."
Bud wasn't sure if he had really heard the last muttered word because the agent had already turned and slipped back into his seat. The door slammed shut.
Stumbling back through the snow he angled his briefcase from the back seat - a rather acrobatic task - locked the door and hurried toward the passenger's side of Webb's four-door car. The agent was drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. He was wearing one of his familiar three-piece suits and the heating was turned up. Bud sighed deeply as he slipped in and shut the door.
"Oh, this is heaven."
Webb stared at him in the fading interior light.
"I - I mean it's warm."
The agent snorted and turned the ignition. Despite the snow chains the wheels turned for a second without contact before gripping. Snowflakes twirled against the windshield as the car crept forward. Bud pulled off his gloves and leaned back in the seat. For a moment he stared down at the briefcase still on his lap and finally turned to shove it onto the back seat. He hit Webb's shoulder.
"Oh! God, I'm sorry!"
Webb huffed audibly. It was impossible to see in the dark but Bud felt clearly the annoyed look he got. He was glad about the darkness hiding his blushes. Blowing into his hands he remembered the seat belt and fumbled around to strap in. Tapping on his legs for a moment he unbuttoned his coat. Then he stole a quick glance at the man behind the steering wheel. Webb wasn't more than a dark shadow. Bud looked straight ahead again but soon his eyes wandered once more to the side. Reining himself in he turned to the side window. It was covered with snow. It was silent except for the wind, hitting the car in gusts of increasing force. The radio was turned off. Bud sneaked another glance at Webb.
"Roberts."
He jumped at Webb's voice. "W-what?"
"Stop that."